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MOUNTAIN CAMP FIRES 



MOUNTAIN 
CAM P FIRES 



By 

EDMOND S. MEANY 



SEATTLE 

LOWMAN 6f HANFORD CO. 

1911 



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Copyright igil by 
Lowmati £3* Hanford Co 

Published, No'vevtber, igil 



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CCI.A303351 



PREFACE 

The Mountaineers visit the islands and 
shores of Puget Sound, the forests, lakes 
and rivers. Thev annually conduct a 
midsummer expedition to one of the lofty 
mountains of the Pacific Northwest. 
During their outings they assemble each 
evening around a camp fire for songs, lec- 
tures, jests or plays. Most of these verses 
were written for the companions at those 
camp fires. They are collected in this 
form with the hope that they may now 
find a welcome at camp fires other than 
those of The Mountaineers. 

EDMOND S. MEANY. 
Seattle, 1911. 



CONTENTS 

Page 
"Evening on Mount Rainier," by- 
Edward S. Curtis Frontispiece 

Mount Rainier 3 

Carbon Glacier 4 

The Violin in Camp 7 

Mystic Lalfe 9 

The Alpine Fir 10 

Mountain Heather 11 

The Dog-Tooth Violet 13 

Crater Lake 14 

Tree Ghosts 17 

Climbing the Mountain's Rugged Steep 18 

Sluiskin 19 

Little Lanterns of the Sea 22 

Orcas Island 23 

The Forest 24 

Chums on the Rugged Trail 26 

Law of the Hills 27 

The Pack Train 29 

Potentilla 30 

Ptarmigan of the Mountains 31 

Snowbrush 33 

Glacier Peak 34 

Leucosticte 36 

Nelson Park 38 

Lyman Lake 39 

Song of the Dead Forest 40 

Lake Chelan 41 

Thou State of Smiling Waters and the Tall 

Fir Tree 43 

The Indian Basket Weaver 45 

vii 



CONTENT S— Continued. 

Page 

Tapestry of the Woods 47 

Two Waves of Forest Fire 48 

A Moss Grown Log 49 

Calypso Borealis 50 

My Home by the Northern Sea 51 

Aleutian Lullaby .., 52 

Washington Beloved '. 53 

Song of the Mountain Meadow 54 

The Minister in Camp 55 

The Snowbrook 56 

Mount Adams 57 

Mountain Lupine 59 

Snow on the Pine 60 

Through Stately Corridors 61 

The Least Little Cornel 62 

The Snowy Owl 63 

The Devil's War Club 64 

A Spider Web 65 

Bells of Sallal 66 

Little Doctor in Feathers 67 

Twin Flowers 68 

Whulge - 69 

When the Sun Goes Down at Kingston 71 

The Pacific Highway 72 

The Ship Is Still a Queen 76 

At Chief Seattle's Grave 77 

Call for Revenge 79 

A Home by the Roadside 80 

The Meteorite 81 

An Hour I Call My Own 82 

A Gift - 84 

The Olympics 85 

Mount Meany 88 

The Camp Fire 89 

viii 



MOUNTAIN CAMP FIRES 



MOUNT RAINIER 

Thou king in ermine robes of crystal 
snow, 
Lift liigh thy royal head serene and 

proud, 
Disdain the stress of storm embattled 
cloud 
That we on earth thy majesty may 

knoA\'. 
Thy crown in myriad hues doth glint and 
glow,— 
A lure for some in each swift hurrying 

crowd, 
Whose hopes are raised and hearts anew 
are vowed 
To catch, like thee, God's light and on- 
ward throw. 
May now thy imaged grandeur live and 
burn 
In brain of men who scan thy glistening 

dome 
Who cut the mooring cord and, listless, 
roam ; 
Give them the wit to mountain magic 

learn : 
That lofty heights but type the souls that 
yearn 
For supreme love in perfect human 
home. 

3 



MOUNTAIN CAMP FIRES 

CARBON GLACIER 

I hail thee, river of ice and snow, 

Thou source of our valleys' fertile soil, 

I climb thy seamy sides to know 

A tithe of thy patient, ceaseless toil. 

Grind, grind, grind 

Huge stones to dust. Oh, stream ! 
Grind, grind, grind. 

Thy sides as mirrors gleam. 

Thy open lips of ice doth pour 
A gushing stream in noisy flood, 

A stream released in joyful roar; 
Behold ! a glacier's milk-white blood. 

Grind, grind, grind 

To crumbling dust these stones ! 
Grind, grind, grind 

The mountain's shattered bones ! 

Was this great rock by Titan tossed 
Thy cold, brown breast to crush and 
bruise 
Or didst thy maiden, wintry frost. 
Launch playful boat for seaward 
cruise? 



BY EDMOND S. ME ANY 

Grind, grind, grind 

The rocks however hurled! 

Grind, grind, grind, 

Thou niill-stone of a world ! 

How weak the pen, how vain the brush 
To catch the hues of this deep gash ! 

How here revealed the power to crush, 
How awful is thy breathing's crash! 

Grind, grind, grind 

In cruel jaws of ice ! 
Grind, grind, grind, 

A Devil's Paradise! 

New life from death, eternal whirl 
How brief each puny span of life ! 

How long the atoms, grinding, swirl. 
Ere seized anew for a season's strife I 

Grind, grind, grind 

To powder every stone! 
Grind, grind, grind 

New life will death atone! 

I mount thy shoulders' utmost height, 
Where threat'ning ice-cliffs poise and 
nod, 

5 



MOUNTAIN CAMP FIRES 

Where avalanches roar in flight, 
Like falling demons cursed of God. 

Grind, grind, grind 

And grind exceedingly fine ! 
Grind, grind, grind, 

My Master's will and thine ! 



BY EDMOND S. MEANY 

THE VIOLIN IN CAMP 

Seated round the oanii) fire on the shoul- 
ders of Rainier 
We were busy with our singing and the 
best of tamp fire cheer 
When there fell a sudden silence and each 
one hushed to see 
Whence came the quivering cadence of 
exquisite melody. 

The alpine firs and hemlocks in stately 
columns stood 
While through them poured the music, 
entrancing rythmic flood. 
Was this a Druid's forest, where old 
spirits came to haunt 
The new world's swift forgetting with 
a sweet and plaintive taunt? 

Enchained each soul to silence, from 
needled boughs still fell 
The strains of Handel's Largo, mys- 
terious soothing spell; 
O'er the valley sped the music, past the 
overhanging peak, 
Sped on wings of mountain breezes that 
a way to Heaven seek, 

7 



MOUNTAIN CAMP FIRES 

Should I stand midst chiselled columns 
neath cathedral's spiral tower 
And bathe in all the brilliance of the 
organ's mighty power, 
Should I knovf that eyerj echo had the 
world's api>roving stamp, 
My aw^akened soul would listen for the 
violin in camp. 



BY BDMOND S. MEANY 

MYSTIC LAKE 

111 a vallej of the mountain that was made 

for thee alone 
Thou art mistress, little ruby, thou art 

very much at home. 
Like a setting is thy valley of a very 

precious stone. 
Like a jewel art thou, ruby, from the 

mountain's crested dome. 

When the storms that sweep the summits 

seek thy nest, thou little sprite. 
They will find no boats to shatter, they 

will find no ships to wreck. 
They will find thee quaintly smiling in thy 

valley's arms locked tight. 
And their angry, blustering torment thou 

can'st laughingly reflect. 

May thy ruby, little valley, be to thee for- 
evermore 

Just a laughing little mirror, just a shin- 
ing little gem. 

Tell thy flowers to creep up closer to her 
grassy sloping shore 

Till they crown her laughing forehead — 
a living diadem. 



MOUNTAIN CAMP FIRES 

THE ALPINE FIR 

Rugged spire of emerald 

I love thy lofty home. 

Thy hands with upturned fingers 

E'er beckon me to come. 

Thy scars of winter tempest 
On trunk and shattered limb 
Proclaim the brave companion 
Of mountain's cragged rim. 

May I, like thee, in struggles 
Breathe free the higher air; 
May I be true and steadfast, 
This to God in prayer. 



10 



BY EDMOND S. MEANY 

MOUNTAIN HEATHER 

High on the mountain the heather bells 

grow, 
High on the mountain where rivulets flow, 
Up on the ridges where clean breezes blow. 
High on the mountains the heather bells 

grow. 

The marmot creeps, 

The eaglet sleeps. 
The linnet and junco nest and sing; 

The mazama leaps, 

O'er dazzling steeps. 
Where heather bells sway and ring. 

High on the mountains our brave spirits 

climb. 
Up to the heights where the sun measures 

time. 
Up where the stars and our hearts seem 

to rhyme, 
High on the mountains our brave spirits 

climb. 

The tired one sleeps. 
When evening creeps. 
And the planets their vespers sing; 

11 



MOUNTAIN CAMP FIRES 

The sun first peeps 
In warm vale's deeps 
Then the heather bells sway and ring. 

High on the mountain the heather bells 

grow, 
High on the mountain where rivulets flow. 
Up on the ridges where clean breezes blow. 
High on the mountains the heather bells 

arrow. 



12 



BY EDMOND S. MEANT 

THE DOG-TOOTH VIOLET 

In the mountaiu's hanging gardens 

I roamed in joy today 
And saw a lavish treasure 

In flowers that strewed the way. 

They nod and sing a welcome, 
They speak to those who know 

Of life and love in summer 
Of sleep beneath the snow. 

And one with snowy petals 

My memory ever thrills. 
Thou art purest and the fairest, 

Sweet lily of the hills. 



13 



MOUNTAIN CAMP FIRES 

CRATER LAKE 

How placid thy waters here high on the 
mountain 
With castles above thee and forests 
around ! 
How sheer are the cliffs that frown o'er 
thy bosom ! 
How clear the wild echoings sharply 
rebound ! • 



In ages agone when mountain fires smol- 
dered 
And ice-laden clouds sought vainly to 
drown, 
Thy parent arose, majestic in grandeur, 
And gazed o'er the canyons neath snow 
jewelled crown. 

The king of the nether world marshaled 
his demons, 
Arrayed them to battle with ice-cloud 
and rock ; 
They shook the deep canyons and far val- 
leys trembled 
And trembled thy mountain in fierce 
battle shock. 

14 



BY EDMOND S. MEANY 

In vaiu was the sceptre of snow moun- 
tain's kingdom 
Uplifted as signal to all the grand clan; 
In vain, for the demons had centered their 
forces, 
Had rushed to the battle with master- 
ful plan. 

So down came the crown and low fell the 
sceptre, 
Away flowed the jewels in hot molten 
streams, 
And far distant cliffs in sympathy echoed 
The booming and roars of a monarch's 
death screams. 

The demons, in leaving, raised rude sculp- 
tured castle 
As symbol that here had once reigned 
a king 
And near it the trees have lifted their 
branches 
Inviting the robins to nest there and 
sing. 

Then soft in the wound that the fire 
demons blasted 

15 



MOUNTAIN CAMP FIRES 

Thy clean limpid waters have silently 
crept ; 
Aloft art thou held a mountain's pure 
chalice 
Of tears vanquished ice-clouds while 
dying have wept. 



16 



BY EDMOND S. MBANY 

TREE GHOSTS 

To him who loves the open, 

Who turns from jostling crowds, 
And leaves the swelt'ring city 

To climb above the clouds. 
Who lets the woodland echoes 

Their forest lore reveal, — 
To him some trees are human 

In personal appeal. 

They sway a jovial welcome, 

Their arms reach down embrace, 
Or raise, perchance, a signal 

As threatening storm fiends chase. 
They spread a woven shelter, 

A slyvan fort entrench 
From scorching heat of noontide, 

From tempest's chilling drench. 

Yet while we roam in pleasure 

Where heart's desire may send 
And greet on moor or hillside 

Each happy leaf-crowned friend, 
Dead spectres, stark and leafless, 

May haunt the living hosts; 
There stand they, gauntly rigid. 

Those gray and gleaming ghosts. 

17 



MOUNTAIN CAMP FIRES 

CLIMBING THE MOUNTAIN'S 
RUGGED STEEP 

Climbing the mountain's rugged steep, 
I wake each day my faith to keep : 
Believe my soul that God is near 
When stars gleam from the azure clear, 
Th}^ windows open to'rd the blue 
While God's pure light is streaming 
through. 

Be sure, my soul, this faith to keep, 
Climbing the mountain's rugged steep. 
Be sure, my soul, this faith to keep, 
Climbing the mountain's rugged steep. 

And thus, my soul, through din and strife 
As mountaineer reflect in life: 
That trees defy the storm's cold wrath 
And heather bounds the snowy path; 
That more than these should man be brave 
His pure heart's love to hold and save. 



18 



BY EDMOND S. MEANY 

SLUISKIN 

Tlioiigh proud the son of warrior Owhi's 
elan 

Brave Sluiskin laughed at valley-gar- 
nered food; 

His hut he reared where mountain tor- 
rents ran ; 

Mazama's mate, he longed for solitude. 

His naked babe on heather carpet 

sprawled 
While patiently his squaw wove near the 

child, 
From roots and grass by fingers deftly 

mauled, 
Rude raiment fit for wintry forests wild. 

His hidden home, from common prying 
free, 

Two palefaced brothers sought one sum- 
mer day. 

And, bent on solving ice-locked mystery, 

This wood-wise Indian asked to point the 
way. 

Full oft had he the mountain snowfield's 
crest 

19 



MOUNTAIN CAMP FIRES 

Explored for goats who love the higher 

steeps ; 
But now the lure, a stranger, wilder 

quest : 
With men to climb where awful danger 

sleeps. 

As guide he climbed till stunted firs gave 

way, 
Those sentinels of struggling forest hosts, 
When Lo! new fear his sinewed frame 

didst sway — 
Grim death w^as there, that gleaming 

home of ghosts ! 

In vain he pled his palefaced friends to 
turn 

And shun the mountain spirit's vengeful 
wrath. 

He, trembling, stood to watch the climb- 
ers spurn 

His fears and pluck from death an up- 
ward path. 

He stood and watched, a lonely vigil kept. 
To Indian gods in mournful cadence sang, 
Implored their help for those who onward 

crept. 
By magic prayer fought sleeping mon- 

ter's fang. 

20 



BY EDMOND S. MEANY 

Nor could poor Sluiskiii, praying, feel or 
know 

The hour those toiling friends raised vic- 
tor's cheers. 

He gazed at miles of piled-up ice and 
snow; 

Faint hope shrank back from devil-goaded 
fears. 

Behold what joy the Indian watcher 

knew, 
When forth his friends from cave of death 

had stept! 
His fears on eagle pinions swiftly flew, 
The torture-fretted guide and climbers 

slept. 

While there neath star-strewn roof of blue 

they lay, 
The waking leader roused from grateful 

dreams. 
Tossed Sluiskin's name, ere purpling 

dawned the day. 
To catch in spray-torn flood the sun's first 

beams. 



21 



MOUNTAIN CAMP FIRES 



LITTLE LANTERNS OF THE 

SEA 

This mystic glow on rippling deep, 

This lavish burst of floating gems, 
Whene'er the sun sinks down to sleep 
And night adjusts her diadems, 
Whence came this fire that will not 

drown? 
When fell these gems from Neptune's 
crown? 
Does Croesus' dust the ocean keep? 

Behold above, that vaulted place 

Is strewn with brilliant orbs of light. 
Perhaps their children laugh at space 

To mimic here the sky at night. 

See them glide from dripping oar; 

See them dash to'rd island shore; 
The star-child lures the Avave to race. 

Perchance the sea in fathomed gloom 

Once begged a lamp from heaven's store 
To lift the curse of dismal doom 

From darkened deep, from rock-bound 

shore. 
Then mermaids fairy lanterns hung 
To catch the sparks from heaven flung 
In Noetiluca's fiery bloom. 
22 



BY EDMOND S. MEANY 

OECAS ISLAND 

Near Ocean's gate in love doth wait 

Thy arms to welcome home; 
Aye, soon or late, Oh, joyous fate, 

Thy sailors homeward come. 

How heart-throbs 3^earn 

For tides that turn 
To'rd island shore, near Ocean's gate! 

Thy green hills tower, they symbol power 

O'erlooking foreign land. 
Though bastion's glower is here a flower 

And trees as soldiers stand. 

Ah, peace still hedge 

Our nation's edge 
While watcheth thou the day's last hour ! 

I love each tree, I hail with glee 

Thy every pebbled beach. 
My spirit free doth learn of thee 

What leaves and birds may teach. 

Oh, rule our shore, 

Forevermore, 
Fair Orcas, Queen of Sunset Sea! 



23 



MOUNTAIN CAMP FIRES 

THE FOREST 

He hails saluting trumpets 
Of Dawn on waking hills, 

Ere deeps of drowsy canyon 
The echoed music fills. 



Alone, the man bids welcome, 
One man among the trees, 

Who hears the tunes of Nature 
Though hid the hand and keys. 

He shares Avith thee, Oh, Forest 
Thy buoyant joy, thy pain. 

Of life in green bud bursting, 
Of death in crimson stain. 

When breezes, myriad fingered, 
From vibrant, swaying strings, 

Draw lilting, wistful murmur. 
He knows thy spirit sings. 

He hears in thundered tempest. 
When angry storm fiends scowl. 

Mid jagged, fitful gleaming. 
Thy haunting demons howl. 
24 



BY EDMOND S. MEANY 

lu summer's glowing tremor, 
Wlien breeze and gale are still, 

The AN'orUrs sweet choirs in feathers 
A thousand chancels thrill. 

A hush of joyous singing! 

A flash of hawk's keen claAv! 
The strong a weaker slaying, — 

Thy rigid, blood-writ law ! 

Then Lo I a rose bush blooming, 
Where singer's heart was torn, — 

For bird the fragrant blossom. 
For hawk the hidden thorn. 

Oh, joyous song of woodland! 

Oh, wings of God-called soul! 
Athrob, leaf-tangled sunshine, 

Behold eternal scroll ! 



25 



MOUNTAIN CAMP FIRES 

CHUMS ON THE RUGGED 
TRAIL 

Go back ye pampered sons of towns; 

Go back to primal ways of life ; 
Shake off the glare of fashion clowns ; 

Obey the random wind's shrill fife. 

Go search the horde for heart-true chum. 

You'll find him there, his thews of steel, 
For real men know the heart's fierce drum. 

And leap as to a battle peal. 

Then seek ye mines or strenuous rest. 
The strain is one with muscled back, 

And hot tides swell the manly breast 
As true chums toil o'er new-found 
track. 

When far from crowds on rugged trail. 
The joy of one the other's own. 

To lips the twain lift priceless grail 
At tested friendship's gilt-free throne. 

So heave in straps with shoulders strong 
And stride to welcome sundown camp. 
The day is done and tuneful song- 
Lures grateful sleep 'neath Heaven's 
lamp. 

26 



BY EDMOND S. MEANY 

LAW OF THE HILLS 

Unknown to him the truo intent that per- 
fect hiw fulfills 
Who has not trod, in love of God, thy 

trails Unpeopled Hills. 
In simple hope he comes to thee, finds 

freedom's great surprise: 
Celestial bars, twelve gleaming stars, 

God's jury in the skies. 
Forthwith he strides, an upright man, 

o'er nature's primal ground; 
In calm or gale, the faintest trail, leaves 

better than 'twas found. 
No room for greed his trove he'll lift and 

mark it by a tree; 
No cache he'll loot, no brook pollute, his 

foll'wers, too, are free. 
His timid faith, his falt'ring trust, now 

bloom and boundless grow; 
Far keys he'll fling, his lock a string, hung 

loose where trav'lers go. 
The hot tide's throb as up he climbs makes 

kindred every beast; 
He will not slay, by night or day, for 

wanton lust or feast. 



27 



MOUNTAIN CAMP FIRES 

Behold his face, this new-born man, in 

hillside mirror pool. 
And paeans raise, in thy due praise. Oh, 

woodland Golden Rule! 



28 



BY EDMOND S. MEANY 

THE PACK TRAIN 

Just before the mountain campfire 
Comes an hour of perfect peace; 

'Tis an hour of quiet musing, 
Precious hour of care's release. 

Gentlj^ thoughts of home and others 
O'er the mountains find their way 

Through the heart's wide-opened portals; 
Rest they there in holy sway. 

To'rd the camper's flower-flecked meadow 

Comes the tinkling of a bell, 
Just a faint and distant tinkling 

Comes to break the peace-hour's spell. 

'Tis the pack train slowly toiling 
Up the trail from homes below 

And the climbers' shouts soon echo 
All the camp's new warmth and glow. 

Mountaineers, however weary, 
Never let their welcome fail 

For the wood-wise laden horses 
Climbing up the winding trail. 



29 



MOUNTAIN CAMP FIRES 

POTENTILLA 

Oh, how like the friend of my childhood 
thou seemest, 
The friend in the pasture, such glori- 
ous quest; 
Yet quick I confess the deceit thou re- 
deemest, 
I drink of my youth from thy cup's 
golden crest. 

The noisy Chiwawa, the wild trail above 
it 
Stir deeply in hearts of the climbers 
new zest. 
The toil of the climbing, how dearly they 
love it; 
Then drink of their youth from thy 
cup's golden crest. 

When camp has been made in a high 
mountain meadow 
And, weary, the climbers seek merited 
rest. 
They reach for thy blossom as low slants 
the shadow 
And drink of their youth from thy 
cup's golden crest. 
30 



BY EDMOND S. MEANY 

PTARMIGAN OF THE 
MOUNTAINS 

Poised on a rock in a clear silhouette, 
From warm-stockinged feet to proud 

lifted head; 
Slow move the clouds in a quaint minuet; 
Thy wilderness home is all silent and 

dead. 



Lover of mountains, I visit thee here; 
I seek and caress thy wee babes in the 

snow. 
Fearless art thou as I draw gently near 
And pra}^ that thy faith may no treachery 

know. 



Robes for the summer, like rocks at thy 

feet. 
The sun's warmer browns softly gather 

and hold. 
Changing to white when the storms 

fiercely beat, 
Thy raiment to mimic the crags' wintry 

cold. 

31 



MOUNTAIN CAMP FIRES 

Shelter thou knowest for babies to sleep, 

Where storm fiends have roared and vain 
thunder bolts hurled. 

Mistress of snows here thy lofty home 
keep, 

Thou Eskimo Queen of the whole feath- 
ered world. 



32 



BY EDMOND S. MEANY 

SNOWBRUSH 

On Washington's sculptured mountains 
Where wind and ice have wrought, 
Have wrought as giant chisels, 
In Nature's firm hands caught. 
Such grand, majestic carvings 
Such high and sharp hewn towers! 
And then the Master Builder 
Round all threw seeds of flowers. 

Swift marched obedient army 
When Mountain Captain spoke; 
They fired their blossom volleys; 
They slept 'neath winter's cloak. 
Then valiant Rhododendron 
Waved signal : "Up with me ! 
Come up and drink the vapors 
Fresh blown from boundless sea." 



33 



MOUNTAIN CAMP FIRES 

GLACIER PEAK 

Thou somber king on throne of granite, 
A pilgrim knocks at rock-strewn gate, 

Thy hingeless gate at guarded palace, 
Behold! I climb, I watch, I wait. 

Was't weak to fear thy storm-swept king- 
dom, 

To fear and flee thy ice-chilled roar, 
In awe to wave a feeble gesture 

To'rd heights where boldest eagles soar? 

I do not boast a heart of valor; 

No upward march of conquest mine; 
I slowlj' creep up storm-carved canyon ; — 

Uncovered stand, a child of thine. 

Then up thy walls I climb and clamber. 
O'er thy glist'ning snowfields plod; 

I come in humble love and yearning 
More truth from thee, new thoughts of 
God. 

I see thee clutch the sea-born vapors, 
Then swirl and hurl through canyons 
steep. 

Ah, whip and lash them, cloud-land fury, 
No respite give but frozen sleep! 

34 



BY E D ]\I N D S. M E A N Y 

All captive here, thy conquered victims 
Await release in years to be. 

How cleanly gleam thy ice-locked rivers ! 
How slowl}' wind the}^ to'rd the sea ! 

Sheer lifts the ridge that parts the path- 
way's 
From swinging clouds to lands below, 
Aye parts the ways through plains or 
forests, 
The ways thy garnered streams must 
flow. 

Thy garnered streams, man's wheels and 
spindles, 

A thousand mills in lowlands hold. 
Athrob, they turn to solve the riddle : 

From cloud to ice and then to gold. 

Thy garnered streams through sagebrush 
valleys, 
Transfoim coyote's vagrant home 
To countless miles of fruit trees laden 
With luscious pearls from thy cold 
dome. 

Forever swa}^ thy magic scepter ; 

Lo, grateful men thy praises sing! 
Command th}^ winds in battle royal 
And rule thy realm, Oh, snow-crowned 
king! 

35 



MOUNTAIN CAMP FIRES 



LEUCOSTICTE 

Of all thy kindred, feathered beauty 
Who vibrant make the woodland 
bowers, 

Of all thy kith in joyful birdland. 

Who sing and nest mid valley flowers, 

Not one can boast such heart of courage 



Not one so brave, so free, so strong 

flaunt the cliffs of glacier mountaiE 

To nest and sing on ice-torn prong. 



Thy scanty food from lowland wafted 

By vagrant winds to fields of snow 
On buoyant wing is gleaned and gathered 

With ne'er a thought of fruits below; 
So clean the air, so free the sunlight, 

Thy summer day is bright and warm. 
Thou knowest too, the safest crevice 

To shield from night or stress of storm. 

What cheer to soul of mountain climber 
Thy flutt'ring wing on snow-crest 
brings. 

Aloft he looks to vaulted Heaven 
Ecstatic prayer he breathes, he sings. 

Thy mission here. Oh, Leucosticte, 

36 



BY EDMOND S. MEANY 

Where skies to snow-crowned moun- 
tains nod : 
To sing and serve the great white altar, 
The mountain climber's shrine of God. 



37 



MOUNTAIN CAMP FIRES 

NELSON PARK 

On the edge of Glacier Peak, 

Where the stars lean down to speak, 
There's a grove of firs and hemlocks, 

One brave last stand of trees; 
The wood-fire's flame is bright 
The snow brooks sleep at night 

The climber's hour of ease. 

Climb slowly up, my friend, 

Up trails of zigzag trend ; 

Make bed near Alpine hemlocks; 

When swift the day grows dark, 
In mountain waiting room. 
With snow-kissed flowers abloom. 

Find rest in Nelson Park, 

Alert at sun's new dawn. 

Night's star-pinned mantle drawn. 
Home left midst sheltering hemlocks. 

We climb through vapor sea; 
Aswath the world below, 
Agleam wide fields of snow. 

Thy mountain, God, and Thee. 



38 



BY EDMOND S. MEANY 

LYMAN LAKE 

Tow'ring crags, tremendous framing, 

For a greater sea of ships; 
Peace serene the low seas shaming, 

Dimpling smiles for Avind god's whips. 

Glaciers held on mountain shoulders. 
O'er a slo])e of granite clean, 

Hurl thy flood through foam-washed 
boulders. 
Nestles then in depths of green. 

Round thy skirts the rough chips lying. 
By the Mountain Carver thrown ; 

Fell a plume from eagle flying, 

There to mark the fir's new throne. 

Radiant lake in mountain splendor, 
Hov'ring round thy circling steeps, 

Lyman's spirit, pure and tender, 
Thy tamanaous, vigil keeps. 



39 



MOUNTAIN CAMP FIRES 



SONG OF THE DEAD FOREST 

The winds sweep down the mountain 
slope, 
Where once gay forest stood ; 
They gasp and sigh in barren hope 
Through ghostly shafts of wood. 
Ah, gone the lilt of swaying bough 
And gone the lisp of sylvan vow, 
When cracked reeds moan down mountain 
slope. 

The winds sweep through the dismal 
burn; 
A ghoulish music make. 
The spirit trees, all rigid, turn. 

Their naked fingers shake. 
Beware! Beware! ere death's hot snare 
Entrap thy feet; Beware! Beware! 
The weird winds wail through dismal 
burn. 



40 



BY EDMOND S. MEANY 

LAKE CHELAN 

Oh, marvel of waters, I greet thee in awe ! 
Thy clutch on my flesh is a panther's 

sharp claw. 
Atremble, I cling to precipitous shore. 
Atremble, I listen for grim deviTs roar. 
Oh, marvel of waters, I greet thee in 

awe I 



How dreadful thy depths as resistless they 
draw I 

How cold and how cruel thy fathomless 
maw ! 

Sheer gloom for the night but no sands 
for the day, 

No beach of strewn pebbles for glad chil- 
dren's play. 
Oh, marvel of waters, I greet thee in 
awe! 

Sharp teeth of thy mountains the stream- 
ing clouds gnaw 

And fling down to thee from huge granite 
hinged jaw 

The cataracts, thund'ring o'er thick jun- 
gled side, 

41 



MOUNTAIN CAMP FIRES 

Afoam fling the floods for thy bosom to 
hide. 
Oh, marvel of waters, I greet thee in 
awe! 

Lo, masterful man, with his ax and his 
saw, 

Slow scaling thy steeps, under wilderness 
law. 

Disputed frail foothold the marmot pos- 
sessed 

And kindled a hearth on Stehekin's high 
crest. 
Oh, marvel of waters, men dare thee in 
awe! 

From prospector's aerie, enlightened, I 
saw 

Thy three score of miles, twisting sun- 
ward, withdraw. 

All skeptic, I follow. My soul sing thy 
cheers ! 

For low hanging gardens, this tribute of 
tears ! 
Oh, marvel of waters, dost laugh at my 
awe? 



42 



BY EDMOND S. MEANY 

THOU STATE OF SMILING 

WATERS AND THE TALL 

FIR TREE 

Thou sturdy son of nature, thou rugged 

child and strong. 
Thou guarder of a nation, by the sun- 
kissed sea, 
We love thy land and waters, we raise a 

joyous song, 
Thou State of Smiling Waters and the 

Tall Fir Tree. 

Around thy snowy summits the screaming 

eagles fly 
And shout, both peak and eagle : Hail ye 

th' free ! 
Thy hills, like Atlas' shoulders, lift their 

burdens to the sky 
And pour the Smiling Waters to'rd the 

Tall Fir Tree. 

Thy roaring, tumbling rivers cut and 

carve the hills of stone, 
Cut and carve a winding pathway to the 

wide wild sea; 
Still they pause in their passing, their 

drenching wounds atone. 
They linger. Smiling Waters, past the 

Tall Fir Tree. 
^ 43 



MOUNTAIN CAMP FIRES 

How broad thy verdant valleys lay gleam- 
ing in the sun ; 

How blossoms joyous promise of harvests 
yet to be ; 

How glad are nature's children as they, 
singing, romp and run 

By the side of Smiling Waters and the 
Tall Fir Tree. 

We stand on beetling crag or cliff and 

gaze from farthest west 
To the bounding ocean billows, to the 

broad free sea; 
We hail the flags of all the earth and 

welcome here to rest 
Amidst the Smiling Waters by the Tall 

Fir Tree. 

Thy loyal sons and daughters, Oh thou 

blessed freedom land. 
Faithful, true and loyal, our hearts we 

give to thee; 
Oh Washington, we love thee from peak 

to border strand. 
Thou State of Smiling Waters and the 

Tall Fir Tree. 



44 



BY EDMOND S. MEANY 

THE INDIAN BASKET 
WEAVER 

"Indian maiden lift my rootlets 
From the earth to warming sim ; 

Coil and twist them round a bowlder 
Anchored while clean waters run." 

Tow'ring- tree in sylvan whispers, 

Fanned by breeze from western shore, 

Talked to one who knew the lisping, — 
Indian maid on mossy floor. 

"Take the ropes, all clean and softened. 
Split and scrape each even strand. 

Take the best, begin thy weaving, 
Draw them tight in growing band. 

"Bend and turn expanding fabric, 
Make a globe like gourd or shell. 

Bend and turn and weave thy basket. 
Weave and pray ; 'tis well, 'tis well. 

"Haste thee, maid, go tell thy sisters 
How the spruce tree taught thee weave ; 

Tell thy secret of the forest. 
Bid them listen and believe." 

45 



MOUNTAIN CAMP FIRES 

Proud the maid bore rounded basket. 

Swift the spruce-tree message flew. 
Weavers love mysterious whispers; 

Weavers know the trees are true. 

"I have helped you, little maiden," 
Crooned the swift, the clean-lipped 
brook. 

"Paint thou me uponj^our basket, 
Just a waving rippling crook." 

Sang the fern by tiny river, 
Shyly hid from garish glare: 

"Use my stems to paint the waters; 
They are bright as glossy hair." 

"Dost thou wish the glow of sunset, 
Soft and warm. Oh, gentle maid. 

Take my bark," cried drooping cherry, 
"Take and paint the linger-shade." 

Forest voices guide the Indian, 

Colors give and mystic sign ; 
Bookless learning, wildwood wisdom, 

Lisping echoes; speech divine. 



46 



BY EDMOND S. MEANY 

TAPESTRY OF THE WOODS 

As by the hemlock branch I brush, 
Out here where fretting clamors hush, 
I pause to trace the wondrous blend 
Adown each bough fresh needles send. 

Fresh needles blend with varying hue. 
With ancient green blend all the new 
And fleck with gems each pendant spray; 
The gems with dancing sunbeams play. 

Each gem may lure more stars to fall 
And, tripping, hang on forest wall, 
In glowing glint to vie with thee, 
Oh, sylvan jeweled tapestry! 



47 



MOUNTAIN CAMP FIRES 

TWO WAVES OF FOREST FIRE 

O'er forest floor, with rush and roar, 

Wild flames impetuous leaping; 

Here crawling scorch, there flying 

torch, — 
Hell's harvest demons reaping! 

O'er blackened stains, new suns and rains 
Send waves of Fire Weed creeping; 
Flame mimic plumes, fire echoed blooms, 
Dead giants neath blossoms sleeping! 



48 



BY E D M O N D S. M E A N Y 

A MOSS GROWN LOG 

On billowed moss, where wild paths cross, 
A till J upraised garden grows. 
On bended knee, by fallen tree, 
I trace the vines in netted rows. 
A throbbing start I My wearj- heart 
Recalls a day Linnaea knows. 
Thy magic spell. Oh, twin-flower bell, 
Turns back the years, — my old love glows. 
Those heavy years! What joy and tears 
Doth drift as mem'ry river flows 
To unknown sea 'twixt j'ou and me. 
Oh, hour my youthful love-star rose! 
Oh, mem'ry stream ! Oh, love-star beam ! 
I'll reach for thee when earth davs close. 



49 



MOUNTAIN CAMP FIRES 

CALYPSO BOREALIS 

How many captive bees, Calypso, 
Hast thou hid in velvet cave; 

How long before some insect Hermes 
Brought the freedom great Zeus gave? 

Thou sylvan island's fabled beauty, 
Nursed by tropic heated sea. 

Doth bear in tender, pendant chalice 
Fragile immortality. 

Thou child of Ocean, far thy journey, 
Sped by wind, by flying bird. 

Aye, northward sped to tangled forest; 
There thy luring song is heard. 

And there thy purple crest, Calypso, 
Flaunts to mimic ancient pride; 

A queen o'er seas whose tiny tempests 
Heave in billowed mossy tide. 



50 



BY EDMOND S. MEANY 

MY HOME BY THE NORTHERN 

SEA 

On the crag of a hill o'er an arm of the sea, 
As an eagle my mate in his soaring has 

come ; 
In a cleft of the rocks, like a nest in a tree, 
He has built us a cabin we fondly call 

home. 

Oh, the sky is clear and the stars are 
near 

At my home by this northern sea, 

And the gulls' shrill cry as they, swirl- 
ing, fly 

Trills a message of love to me. 

Though the forest may roar in the tem- 
pest's wild blast 

And the ocean may seethe in its anger 
tossed foam, 

We may kneel at the hearth till the fury 
is past 

While we sing to our God in His star- 
sprinkled dome. 



51 



MOUNTAIN CAMP FIRES 



ALEUTIAN LULLABY 

Oh, ride here my little one, ride like the 

wave, 
These arms, thy bidarka, will hold thee 

and swing; 
No sea lion can harm thee for I'm here 

to save 
My brave little boy, Oh, my son of a king. 

While father has gone to his quest on the 

sea. 
With eagle plumed arrow and sharp 

pointed spear. 
He's hunting the otter, will soon bring 

to thee 
A robe for his prince, for my own baby 

dear. 



Then sleep. Oh, my little one, sweet be thy 

rest; 
Oh, sleep while the waves sing a song of 

the deep. 
So warm in thy cradle, thy fur-padded 

nest, 
Oh, safe is my little one! Sleep, baby, 

sleep. 



52 



BY EDMOND S. MEANY 

AYASHINGTON BELOVED 

Thy name, Oh Washington renowned, 
We hail, we hail from far and near. 
Thy glories joyfully resound, 
In song of praise and mighty cheer. 

Thy fame. Oh Washington serene, 
Leads on, leads on up to'rd the sky. 
While we through every changing scene. 
Thy purple pennants lift on high. 

Thy deeds, Oh Washington benign, 
Will last, will last as hills of stone, 
While we like ore the fires refine. 
Will ring forth praise to thee alone. 

Thy sons. Oh Washington beloved. 
Lift up, lift up their heads in pride. 
By whatsoever sea removed. 
To thee, their lives in love are tied. 



53 



MOUNTAIN CAMP FIRES 

SONG OF THE MOUNTAIN 
MEADOW 

Oh, mountaineers, love you my ever new 

story, 
And listen all year for the midsummer 

story 
Of pinnacles, crags, the rough rocks and 

green heather, 
The spices and purple of June valley 

weather ; 
How oft do you murmur my wonderful 

story, 

And patiently wait? 

My trees and my grasses wave welcoming 

glory; 
My asters and lilies from snows steal a 

glory ; 
Oh, when will you break from your town 

tightened tether 
And fly with a heart light as zephyr-blown 

feather 
To nestle again in my hill-cradled glory? 
I fling wide the gate ! 



54 



BY EDMOND S. MEANY 

THE MINISTER IN CAMP 

His broad and muscled shoulders a 

gen'rous load doth swing; 
When trials seem thick and threat'ning, 

he bids his comrades sing; 
At night when ruddy faces reflect the 

camp fire's flare, 
He lifts the absent scouters to God in 

tender prayer. 

He climbs with zest the mountains, enjoys 

each tree and flower. 
He knows whence came the beauty and 

whence the plan, the power 
To carve the lofty mountain, to raise the 

rugged hill, 
To paint the dainty blossom, and tune the 

rushing rill. 

He leaps with joy of childhood, he joins 
hilarious shout; 

Removed from wonted labor, from grief, 
from worrying doubt. 

Afar from pew and pulpit in Nature's 
wide-flung span. 

He hails the wild, the wonder, this whole- 
some, helpful man. 

55 



MOUNTAIN CAMP FIRES 

THE SNOWBROOK 

Why are you singing, Oh, little river, 

On boist'rous noisy way. 
Never aloiter like valley brooklet, 

And never an idle day? 

Come t© the mountain, Oh, friend of 
waters. 

Oh, come to snowbrook home. 
Up where we play midst granite boulders 

And fly in. dashing foam. 

See how we gather as little children, 

All creeping ere we run. 
See how we greet the new bells of heather 

And kisses throw the sun. 

Voices we raise in the silent places, 

Our glad acclaim prolong; 
Tumbling in cataracts, joyful, leaping. 

We sing the mountain song. 



56 



BY EDMOND S. MEANY 

MOUNT ADAMS 
I. 

How solid, broad and buttressed thy base 

of rocks doth rest 
On earth's great primal platform beneath 

the sands and clays, 
To hold secure thy shoulders, thy high and 

gleaming crest, 
Serene in storm or sunshine through 
Time's eternal days! 

AM Id Avinds may whirl, 
Cold snowdrifts swirl, 
And thunders hurl 
Their blazing spears to rend and blast. 
Th}^ sides may shake, 
The wide plains quake, 
But, Lol thy deep-set granite holds thee 
firm and fast ! 

11. 

These rock-hewn caverns, 

Thy vaulted taverns. 
Where Arctic sprites in revels hover ! 

Wee knight may prance 

With lifted lance, 
His rival drive to darkling cover 

And then perchance 

In languid dance, 

57 



MOUNTAIN CAMP FIRES 

Demurely seek a frost carved gem for elfin 
lover. 

III. 
Thy lakes, thy flower-strewn gardens, all 

lead to fields of snow 
Lead up until we listen for star-led sing- 
ing choir. 
We pause on pendant glacier, a river's 

frozen flow, 
Or climb on rigid lava, on hardened 
ancient fire. 

Ah, transcendent glow 
On ice, on ancient fire! 
Who would dare to measure 
One mountain's lavish treasure 
When fingers, giant fingers, aye point us 
higher, higher? 

IV. 

Attained at last thy summit, thy crown 
above the cloud. 

We stand in awe; 
Thy altar's law 
Condemns the soul that will not still. 
With spirit bowed. 
However proud. 
And let God's glory every trembling fibre 
thrill. 

58 



BY EDMOND S. MEANY 

MOUNTAIN LUPINE 

Blue of the sea, blue of the sky, 

Blue of the glacier's deep ! 

Oh, wine of the winds where free eagles 

fly, 

I climb to thy home, blue Lupine, I leap. 

Blue of the sea, blue of the sky. 

Blue of the glacier's deep ! 

Oh, flowers where the snows caressingly 

lie, 
For a3'e with the stars companionship 

keep. 



59 



MOUNTAIN CAMP FIRES 

SNOW ON THE PINE 

Rear high thy head great pine-tree. 
Thou art king of all the plants. 
Thy crown, a plume of emerald, 
Cuts the cloud as feathered lance. 

Brave tree now square thj shoulders 
While the cloud in tempest blows; 
With sturdy strength stand holding 
Billowed burden of the snows. 

When April suns caress thee, 

When they search thy needled boughs, 

They'll lift the snow in vapors 

Soft as whispered prayers or vows. 

May I, like thee. Oh, pine-tree. 
Firmly hold the winter snow 
Till conieth suns of April 
Bringing Heaven-promised glow. 



60 



BY EDMOND S. MEANY 

THROUGH STATELY 
CORRIDORS 

Tlii'ouuli corridors stately and silent, 

Of somber coniferous woods 
I wander and, strangely elated, 

I yield to their varying moods. 

Majestic, the fir tree has lifted 
His emerald crown to the light. 

While cedars, the spruces, and hemlocks 
Compete for the mists' lower flight. 

What marvel, arboreal army 
At rest yet deployed file on file. 

Whose ranks I inspect, a mere human, 
A pigmj' in vine-tangled aisle I 

I humbly reach hands to the columns. 
Reach hands as one gropes in the dark, 

And gently renew an old friendship 
As fingers trace rifts in the bark. 

Oh, trees how I love primal vigor. 

Your trunk and your high swaying 
limb. 

Your breath of the balm and the balsam, 
Your music of Morning's new hymn ! 

61 



MOUNTAIN CAMP FIRES 

THE LEAST LITTLE CORNEL 

On the mossy forest floor, 

As white pebbles on a shore, 
Lo, a bank I found of flowers. 
Blossoms sprung from snowy showers. 
Snowy showers had dropped the flowers 

On the forest rugs on mossy floor. 

Lifting up her shining face. 

With a vine of mimic lace 
Round her cheeks, one dainty flower, — 
Little maid in slyvan bower, — 
Sylvan bower screens winsome flower, 

Ah, the joy in Cornel's beaming face ! 



62 



BY EDMOND S. MEANY 

THE SNOWY OWL 

Bleak winds blowing 
Black clouds snowing, 

O'er all the nortliland cold; 
White robes stealing, 
Southward reeling, 

A snowy specter bold. 

Vision fleeting 
Ghostly meeting 

Of Life with Death's rude mask; 
Linger yearning 
Ever turning. 

One favor more to ask. 



63 



MOUNTAIN CAMP FIRES 

DEVIL'S WAR CLUB 

You ruflfian, you outcast, you vagabond 
flower ! 
From ooze of the marshes draw cank- 
erous breath, 
And, creeping in shadows, await your 
black hour 
To torture some victim with arrows of 
death. 

Dark spirits of evil drew nigh at your 
birth 
And brought to their own, as a demon's 
hard fate, 
Their verdict to hold at your treacherous 
girth 
A thousand full quivers of poisonous 
hate. 

You bloom of the Devil, you child of the 
slime ! 
Go creep in the darkness the violets 
shun; 
Go coil in the shadows, don't venture to 
climb 
For fear of your death in a kiss of the 
sun. 

64 



BY EDMOND S. MEANY 

A SPIDER WEB 

Aswing on thread between two trees, 
On thread by wondrous spider spun, 
There sways a net in evening breeze, — 
A silken gauze in slant of sun. 

When Dawn her shafts of gray first hurls, 
Ere dews have caught the Morn's warm 

breath, 
Each thread is strung with gleaming 

pearls, — 
A shroud, a jeweled shroud, of Death! 



65 



MOUNTAIN CAMP FIRES 

BELLS OF SALLAL 

Who does not love thy home, Gaultheria, 
Thy northern home where soft winds 

blow; 
Who does not hail thy green leaf symbol 
As pledge of hope through winter snow? 

Who does not know thy Easter glory, 
When flower to flower glad message tells, 
And thou to greet the passion holy 
Doth ring thy chimes, thy waxen bells? 



66 



BY EDMOND S. MEANY 

LITTLE DOCTOR IN FEATHERS 

My friend lies ill in cabin home, 
My heart is sad, my eyelids pearled; 
While watching, I old chum paths roam, 
His random words all starward whirled. 

Athwart the sash vined roses cling. 
Press rose and thorn against the pane; 
Bed beads of love the roses string. 
Brown knives in wounds the sharp thorns 
drain. 

I weary wait the ebb-tide's turn; 
I hold to hope's lone flick'ring ray 
And pray the spark may glow and burn 
Till lurking shades flee dawn's quick gray. 

A sudden glance in sweet of sun ! 
Those sunken eyes now strong and bold; 
My chum, dear soul, alert as one 
Who saw beyond that flash of gold ! 

I look and Lo ! the roses heard 

My prayer of joy in hope new born; 

I look and Lo ! a gold-winged bird 

Had poised and screened the rose's thorn ! 



67 



MOUNTAIN CAMP FIRES 

TWIN FLOWERS 

Oh, ring little bells on your wee slender 
thread, 
Oh, ring to my listening heart ! 
How often I hear in your ringing 
My lover's sweet lullaby singing. 
Oh, swing little singers on vine lifted 
thread 
And ring to my listening heart ! 

Oh, one little bell is my lover's sweet 
voice 

And one bell, I fancy, is mine. 
How often I wondered in ringing 
Which bell was the lullaby singing; 
But now, little singers, united, rejoice, 

My lover forever is mine ! 



68 



BY EDMOND S. MEANY 

WHULGE 

"Dwellers by Whulge — the waters of 
Puget's Sound." — Theodore Winthrop 
in "The Canoe and the Saddle." 



Mid a riot of fun in the sweet of the sun, 
Happy boy with his arrow in mimic war 

play 
Drives his foe to a run, the wee battle is 

won, 
And his mates hail him chief, little chief 

for a day. 

Down to the beach, brown feet in a 
clatter 

Kin to the seals, blithe sport they in- 
dulge. 

Drowning the while in waves of glad 
chatter 

The tide's welcome message of 
"Whulge !" 

Tossing fruit of his quest, with a hunter's 

keen zest. 
Sinewed man stands erect by his hut's 

matted door, 

69 



MOUNTAIN CAMP FIRES 

Greeting praise with a Jest, flaunts his 

eagle plumed crest 
As he strides in his strength to the sea's 

waiting shore. 

There he beholds the wind furies lash- 
ing, 
Lashing to foam the billow's big bulge, 
There he can hear Tamanaous crashing. 
Crashing in "Whulge ! Whulge !" 

Lo, the snows, sure and stern, bring the 

glass to its turn 
For the last run of sand as the man is 

grown old. 
Dying embers still burn, and the heart, 

Oh, doth yearn 
For one touch of the sea ere it sleeps in 

the cold. 

Creeping so slowly, he strains feeble 
fingers. 

Great myst'ry pleads the sea to di- 
vulge,— 

Smiles in his eyes, his spirit scarce 
lingers, — 
"Whulge! Whulge! Whulge!" 



70 



BY EDMOND S. MEANY 

WHEN THE SUN GOES DOWN 
AT KINGSTON 

The sea birds drift to log-strewn shore, 

When the sun goes down at Kingston. 
Subdued their cries as, swimming near. 
They gossip news for each to hear 
The day's fresh store of sea bird lore. 
Oh, quaint must be that chattered lore, 
When the sun goes down at Kingston. 

The busy crafts fleck ocean stream, 

When the sun goes down at Kingston. 
Oh, what a freight of joy may be 
In ships that pass by birds and me! 
But Lo ! there seem in idle dream. 
More joys for me in peaceful dream, 
When the sun goes down at Kingston. 

The forest boughs lean to'rd the sea, 
When the sun goes down at Kingston. 

Oh call of tree, Oh call of tide. 

Awakened soul thy joys abide! 

Oh tide, Oh tree, I come to thee, 

I come for native love of thee. 
When the sun goes down at Kingston ! 



71 



MOUNTAIN CAMP FIRES 

THE PACIFIC HIGHWAY 

I. 

The glowing warmth of equal Tropic sun 
Draws home the myriad birds from south, 
from north. 

Such wondrous flight, 

Ere gloom of night 
Enshrouds the empty nests so lately won, 
The nests where clam'rous fledglings hung 
So brief a time ere they were flung 
In air to seek the day's receding light ! 

The Tropic song 

Holds bird-folk throng 
Till sound of nest-call sends them forth. 



II. 

How like the bird 

Strong man has heard 
The call to rise and cleave the cloud with 

wings. 
To greet the stars, to drink the higher air, 
To magnify his boyish kites and strings, 
To dare grim death and yet again to dare. 
Away his fear, his heavy fear, he flings ! 



72 



BY EDMOND S. MEANY 

III. 

Not all the birds fly far from home, 
And few the men who risk the air's thin 

height. 
Familiar ways the many love to roam ; 
The boat, the bridge, still challenge all 

their might. 
Nor lost their love for combing billow's 

foam. 
Their ecstacy in mountain morning's 

light. 

For them the earth is brown, 
Is fruitful, warm, and brown. 
Ah, still they love the green trees grow- 
ing, 
The needled boughs, and gentle breezes 

blowing ; 
They love the forest tremor, flower-strewn 

meadow, 
The canyon, cliff, and fern-flecked shadow. 
The quiet field and e'en the busy, noisy 
town. 

IV. 

As forth men toil, the path's slow wid'ning 

edge 
Becomes the highway, badge of sovereign 
people's state. 

73 



MOUNTAIN CAMP FIRES 

They build and toil, each road a nervous 
wedge 

To hew a way where seats of empire wait. 

Then states to states, as neighboring far- 
mers, call 

To join the work of every valiant son ; 
In joy they call 
To pierce the wall. 

To fling aside rude sword and gun ; 

In peace the highway serves them all. 

V. 

As strength on strength of many harvests 
teeming. 

The mines, the sea, a new world's wealth 
unfold, 

Bold spirits feel the spell of brilliant 
dreaming. 

They feel the spell 
Old fables tell 

Of mystic change from ice to heat. 

From northern iron to southern gleaming 
gold. 

And straight they seize on vision firmer 
hold: 

A road from distant Arctic's cold. 

Through leagues of pines to Tropic's tan- 
gled palms, 

74 



BY EDMOND S. MEANY 

Still on, to graze the giant Araucaria's 

feet, 
To face at last Magellan's storms and 

calms. 

VI. 

Lo, on the road may human lives be 

blended, 
Albeit strange may sound the lisping 

tongue ! 
Salute the state wherever flag is flung; 
But, land of llama, land of bison, land of 

reindeer team. 
Oh, land of lilies, land of cactus, land 

where orchids beam, 
Approach this road with heart of brother. 
Seize the Vision Splendid! 



75 



MOUNTAIN CAMP FIRES 

THE SHIP IS STILL A QUEEN 

In the sheltered bay of Townsend 
Lies a full rigged ship at rest, 

Her sides and furled sails gleaming 
As a bride in new robes dressed. 

The ocean's lovely sweetheart 
Cometh home to be caressed. 

Ah, we love thee, comely daughter. 
Thou wert blessed here at thy birth. 

Where the distant snow-crowned 
Watcher, 
Guarding Fuca's wide mouthed firth. 

From the sea guides forest children 
Back to waiting arms of earth. 

Like a bird with homing message 

Hast thou come through day and night 

With thy bellowed canvas straining 
In the long majestic flight, 

Veered by Heaven's kindly fingers. 
All thy outstretched pinions white. 

We repel the rule of giants 

In this strident smoke-grimed day. 

We greet thy royal standard 
And thy regal scepter's sway. 

For aye the sea's true sovereign. 
Own we all in Townsend bay. 
76 



BY EDMOND S. MEANY 

AT CHIEF SEATTLE'S GRAVE 

Peace be with thee in thrice honored 
grave, 
Oh, Chieftain, as pilgrims we lovingly 
come, 
Drawn to a shrine by Whulge's cool 
wave ; — 
Suquamish, sad fragment, in fir-girdled 
home. 

Valorous Chieftain, king of a race, 
When ocean unfettered surged foam- 
freighted crest; 
Regal thy sway, ere pioneers trace 

Faint trail o'er yon mountains to ulti- 
mate West. 

Swift as the seal on Whulge's broad tide. 
Sped warriors brave at thy uplifted 
hand; 
War or the chase was one as they plied 
Their paddles or arrows as thou didst 
command. 

Slowly the smoke from log cabin curled, 
From hearth of white stranger near 
wilderness shore, 

77 



MOUNTAIN CAMP FIRES 

Hearth and a home at edge of the world, 
With bold Saxon faith in a hut's open 
door. 

Heart of a friend ! Oh, hear that wild yell, 

The hour savage foes had come creeping 

at night! 

Heart of a friend ! Oh, how could we tell 

The strain of the foes on our Chieftain's 

great might ! 

Kaging with anger, demons of hate. 
The howling foes fought through the 
battle's long day. 
Chieftain, Oh, Chieftain, blest was gup 
fate! 
Thou stoodst like a rock in our tempest 
strewn way. 

Sweet be the flower. Oh, child, that you 
bring, 
And pure be the prayer that you Heav- 
enward send. 
Soft be thy song as wild robins sing, — 
A shrine in the grass by the grave of 
our friend. 



78 



BY EDMOND S. MEANY 

CALL FOR EEVENGE 

They fled, defeated, doleful Avarrlor band 
Of Sioux, who, battling with an ancient 

foe. 
Saw horsemen spring as from the ground 

and so 
In haste obeyed their frightened chief's 

command. 
And then anew was courage slowly 

fanned. 
Revenge was sure and one would quickly 

know 
His lot when picked as leading brave to 

go, 
By pressure of a trembling maiden's hand. 
All knew she mourned a brother loved but 

slain ; 
All knew her right to choose a champion 

brave. 
Refuse! No hill, nor boundless, endless 

plain 
Could such a flagrant coward hide or save. 
Cheerfully he yields each thought, each 

breath 
To this wild Indian game of life and 

death. 



79 



MOUNTAIN CAMP FIRES 

A HOME BY THE ROADSIDE 

Why crave a lonely grandeur, Oh, my 

heart? 
Why screen thy riches from thy neighbor's 

sight 
Or seek to hide from all pervading light 
Thy talent though it be of humble art? 
Why choose a home on sheltered knoll 

apart. 
In vale defended by rude wealth or might, 
Where sun and moon alone mark day and 

night. 
All free from noise of busy wheel or mart? 
Ah, greedy thus to seize and call thy own 
Rare gems of love with Nature's flowers 

and trees! 
Nay, soul of mine, forswear thy selfish 

ease, 
For God in mercy seeds of both have sown 
That life and love might sin and death 

atone. 
Choose ye a home where roll the human 

seas. 



80 



BY EDMOND S. MEANY 

THE METEORITE 

Celestial vagabond, from ether hurled, 
What greeting bringest thou from distant 

skies? 
Enchained awhile where myst'ry's cur- 
tains rise. 
Thou fell and through the vaulted heavens 

whirled. 
What hands didst see with flaming ban- 
ners furled 
Or flaunted quick in signalling to eyes 
That might a message read in Paradise? 
Pray tell, what word is brought to hungry 

world? 
On dull and heavy surface wrinkled scars 
Show deep the teeth of gnawing fiery heat 
As if gaunt wolves of air thy flesh did eat 
And threw thy melted bones past burning 

stars. 
I gaze on thee, then lift through hazy 

bars 
One longing hope to reach thy Master's 
feet. 



81 



MOUNTAIN CAMP FIRES 

AN HOUR I CALL MY OWN 

Ah, up from depths of big strong years 
Thy shadows come Oh, joyous day ; 

They wind through strident world-wise 
jeers, 
Through foolish jeers wind star-led way. 

I know the toll. Oh, day of youth. 
The gnawing years demand of thee, 

The toll of boyhood, joy and truth, 
Once thine but now eternity. 

Yet come. Oh day. Oh hour my own 
And sway once more thy torch of love ; 

Let now for all the then atone ; 

Make this an hour like those Above. 

Ah, hear the snap of drift-wood fire. 
And smell the pungent sea-soaked wood, 

The camp song rising higher, higher, — 
A soul's fresh tide at pulsing flood ! 

Wilt pause. Oh, hour? I scan each face 
Ere waves of age have billowed there; 

I see no more the vacant place 

Of one sent Home with hymn and 
prayer. 

82 



BY EDMOND S. MEANY 

Oh, friends of yore, I love, doth hear? 

The word I give as hour-shade goes ; 
I look to God — no dread, no fear; — 

I lived, I loved, and Oh, He knows. 



83 



MOUNTAIN CAMP FIRES 

A GIFT 

How much we prize 

From truthful eyes, 
From windows of the soul, 

The gleam of joy 

Without alloy ; 
'Tis Heaven's splendid dole. 

Could I but fling. 

As mighty king. 
Rare gems from land or sea, — 

Pure hearts' behest. 

In thrice locked chest, — 
I'd give the golden key. 



84 



BY EDMOND S. MEANY 

THE OLYMPICS 
I. 

Serried thy peaks, Oh, great celestial 

saw, 
Cleaving the clouds that dare thy sum- 
mits range 
Clouds that swirling range, obedient 
to the law 
Of earth's reviving change: 
Ocean mists uplifted 
By winds at random drifted, 
Hurl themselves at thee in glow'ring 
rows ; 
Thy jagged jaws still gnawning, 
Thy teeth's continual sawing, 
Spill Ocean's blood to earth, cold rains 
and snows. 
The snows and rains thy summits drench 

and all thy forests feed. 
The law requires of cosmic Ocean, war- 
ring, thus to bleed. 

11. 

Quick rivers leap. 
Slow glaciers creep, 
And near them bright hued lilies loving 
vigils keep. 

85 



MOUNTAIN CAMP FIRES 

All singing birds 
All silent herds 
Of elk, of deer, translate thy hoarsely 

thundered words. 
In solitude of night thy creatures wild 
in peace doth sleep. 

III. 

When man courageous seeks thy roaring 

rivers 
And upward toils till ev'ry straining 

muscle quivers, 
Ye, stand, proud crags, and frown in 
grim disdain. 

Disdain in ev'ry feature 
For such a fearless creature, 
Who braves thy heights with crawling 

feet and slow. 
Who creeps, sore weighted, where nimble 

marmots go. 
Ye look afar where blue of sea meets blue 

of sky, 
Adown ye look where cross wolves snarl 
and up where bold hawks fly 
For mate of man and yet thy search is 
all in vain. 

86 



BY EDMOND S. MEANY 

Still up be comes ; 
His glad heart hums 
To rock and flower, to brook and bird, a 
song while passing by. 

IV. 

He feels no mountain frown, nor fears thy 

threat'ning rods; 
Thy Maker known, he loves, new home of 
ancient gods. 

He stands on topmost peak, 
Uncovered stands in clean blown air; 
His thoughts no triumph speak. 
But, lisping, rise to God in fervent, hum- 
ble prayer. 



87 



MOUNTAIN CAMP FIRES 

MOUNT MEANY 

May I, a mortal, quick with pulsing life, 
Lift up mine eyes on peak that bears my 

name? 
No ancient hero gained such vaulted 

fame, 
Though victor's crown were his in valiant 

strife. 
While surging human passions still were 

rife. 
His honor risked the tinge of frailty's 

shame. 
Or weak, so full of fault, so halting, lame, 
Is man when Time applies the Years' cold 

knife. 
No hero I, no victor's following band 
Will shout for laurel crown on my proud 

head; 
But Lo! full two-score snows have fall'n 

and fled, — 
This priceless gift of partial friends doth 

stand. 
Behold, I reach this hopeful, trembling 

hand 
And crave the name's esteem ere I am 

dead! 



88 



BY EDMOND S. MEANY 

THE CAMP FIRE 

Pile up the wood of dead pine and the 
cedar, 

Wood of the trees lying prone near our 
camp ; 

Handful of moss and a feAV pitchy splin- 
ters, 

Flicker and flame to a wide flaring 
lamp, — 
Warmth and a beacon for mountaineers' 
camp. 

Tell of the joys for the day and the mor- 
row, 

Hope and firm faith in the life of high 
hills. 

Jibe one another with innocent jesting; 

T.aughter aripple in heart brimming rills, 
Tumbles and gurgles down joy-freighted 
hills. 

Gems of the world from each memory 

casket 
Catch for a moment the gleam of the fire; 
Verses are read of the rare mountain 

treasures, 
Treasures the climbers unfailing ad- 
mire, — 
Tribute of love at our pine-kindlod fire. 
89 



MOUNTAIN CAMP FIRES 

Tribute and jest, merry song and grim 

story 
Rivalry hold, till the fire burneth low, 
Rivalry hold, yet so lavish the prizes 
Each one may seize round the embers' 

last glow, — 
Singing "Good Night" as the fire 

burneth low: 

"Though like a wanderer, 

The sun gone down. 
Darkness be over me. 

My rest a stone; 
Yet in my dreams I'd be 
Nearer, my God, to Thee! 
Nearer, my God, to Thee! 

Nearer to Thee!" 



90 



DEC 13 ^'^' 



One copy del. to Cat. Div. 



DEC 13 ?sn 



LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 

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